In your World
by Azayaka-chan
Summary: Grimmjow feels enough with his boring life. He wants a little adventure. So, when one day he finds a big package on his yard with with a mysterious boy in it, what will he do? It contains rape and torture...
1. Chapter 1

Hai everyone. It's my first fanfic, so enjoy....

Disclaimer: I surely don't own bleach

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Chapter 1

Grimmjow smirks from across the street. After three days of a useless vacation, finally he's able to return home. He unlocks the door and sighs. He has wasted his money on nothing, but he can't blame others since it was him himself who chose the place. That private island he read on a pamphlet before had captivated his eyes. So, in order to refresh his mind for his next novel, he booked one of the bungalows and tried to concentrate on his next project. But that was the end of summer holiday, and with so much people had the same idea with him, the private island was no longer private anymore.

Well, but he can't say that he doesn't like that short but lively vacation. Yes, he didn't get any progress for his work but he really had a lot of fun with women and men there. Women and men? No…no…you read that right. Grimmjow is someone who is sexually attracted to those both sexes. And he is proud of that, actually. He is also a novelist, errmm…a certain kind of novels for adult that is sold in certain stores only, that kind of novel that every parents in this world would happily burn them into ashes.

He steps inside and throws his luggage on the floor. It's so damn hot; he wipes his forehead and storms to the kitchen. He checks the refrigerator and curses loudly.

"Shit! I forget that I turned this damn cupboard off before I go. Now I don't have any cold beer!"

He takes one of the not so fresh beers can and slumps on the chair in the adjoining dining room. Not bad… He takes a deep breath and looks around. Good, now he's stuck in this stupid house again. It's so weird, every time he left for more than a day, he would miss this place called house. But after he's in it he will hate it. What's wrong with him? Grimmjow sulks on his seat. The problem is he needs something new. This last two years, his life seemed so boring. He was scheduled, controlled, organized and maintained, by his manager, publisher, even by people he barely knew. _God, I need something different in my life, even if it's just a little. _

Grimmjow scratches his chin and frowns. Damn those people! He throws the empty can to the corner, and then tilts his head, staring at the door to the small garden at the side of his house. What's that? A big wooden package? He opens the door slowly, and examines it. No wonder he couldn't see it when he arrived, someone placed that big box behind the bush that grow wildly on that little yard. He shakes it a little. Not so heavy. Did he order something from somewhere? By the look of that wood material of the package, it must be something fragile. A big Chinese vase maybe? Oh shit! It must be something from his manager. She always sent a gift every time he had finished his novel.

He grunts and searches for some doormat. He places it under one side of the box and then pulls it inside using the other side. Damn, it's not that light either! He rummages his drawer to find his biggest screwdriver, a hammer, and spends the rest of his day fighting to open his gift. After a half hour or more, Grimmjow finally successes to pull all the nails out. He moves the upper board and freezes. Someone has sent him a corpse!!

_God, I just want a little excitement, not one big death disaster!_ Grimmjow is about to run and call the police, but his feet refuse to move. He just stares at the body at the bottom of the box. It's a boy; crouching with his hands are tied at his back, the same treatment to his feet, blindfolded and gagged. That boy wears only a blue cloth similar with the one used by the hospital's patients. What's this? Does someone play a prank on him? Carefully, Grimmjow pokes the boy's shoulder with his screwdriver and almost jumps backward when he heard a slight whimper. Oh shit! He's still alive! Panic, Grimmjow demolishes the rest of the wall boards.

"Oi! Oi, boy! Wake up!" Grimmjow pokes the boy's cheek. He loosens the tie of his hand and the cloth used to blindfold and gag the poor boy.

"Hey! You're not dead, are you?"

Slowly, the boy opens his eyes. A pair of beautiful but fearful emerald eyes blinks and then stares at him.

"Oh, God! What happen to you?"

The boy adjusts his hand shakily and reaches for him. Grimmjow leans forward, but that hand moves, quite fast for his condition and almost scratches his eyes.

"Ow! What's wrong with you?" Grimmjow grabs the hand. Maybe this shit little boy really is one of the patient from that mentality hospital. But is it a newest method to send the hopeless patient back to his family? The boy hisses painfully when Grimmjow touches him. And then Grimmjow realizes some cuts on his arms.

Doesn't want to take another threatening risk, Grimmjow has no other option but to tie the hands back, ignoring the shriek come out from his mouth. He looks for the address of the sender, but finds nothing. Grimmjow is still contemplating to call the police when suddenly a new thought strikes his brain. How long was the boy staying there in that box? Just now? A day? Two days? Three days? OK, take the maximum, three days…without water and food. Grimmjow swears loudly and runs to the kitchen. Ouch, he doesn't have that rehydration drink, so he took one glass of water and adds a spoonful of sugar, a pinch of salt and then stirs it carefully.

"Okay boy, I don't know what's wrong with you, so I'm so sorry that I have to tie you again. I'll let them free if I'm sure you won't harm me, but we'll do that later. Now I want you to drink…" Grimmjow puts the tip of the straw in front of the boy's lips. "Slowly, okay?"

The boy sucks greedily; Grimmjow has to pulls the straw out. "I said slowly. Or you'll choke…"

After the glass empty, Grimmjow rummage his kitchen's cabinet to find his instant porridge. He remembers he still has any when he got stomach ache and could only eat soft foods. When he finds them, he checks the expired date. Good! Just a week before the specified date! He cooks one and let it warm before brings it to the boy.

When he returns to the dining room, the boy still lies helplessly on the bottom board. Grimmjow kneels behind the slumped body. "I'll move you to the couch, boy. Don't do anything stupid or I'll throw you to the street!" But he hears only a slow grunt. Grimmjow puts his hands under the back and the knees of the boy and lifts him. The boy clenches his teeth and whimpers in pain. Grimmjow almost lets go of him, but manages to bring him to the couch. He checks the boy carefully. Beside the hospital like cloth that he wears, that boy wears nothing. And Grimmjow also finds other cuts all over his slender body and feet, along with some scary bruises and wounds like teeth marks. A trail of dried blood between his legs makes Grimmjow flinches in disgust. This boy definitely has been abused, tortured and raped. Who could do something like that?

Slowly, Grimmjow feeds the boy. Never in his life before he treats a sick person like that, even his grandfather, his only family who took care of him since he was a small boy, because he hired a professional nurse for tasks like that. After the food is gone, Grimmjow let the boy rests and sleeps. He still doesn't dare to open the rope; well at least he didn't tie his hands too tight.

Grimmjow sits on the floor, thinking. Who's that boy? Looks like he still 16 or 17. A kidnapping victim? Ah, yes…if not because of the wounds, his skin is smooth and white like a marble, and his hair; even though it's a kind of messy right now but he knows that it's used to be groomed well, in other words: a rich kid. That boy is a mental disorder patient, kidnapped for ransom or sold for sex slavery, which one? Grimmjow knows that he has to call the police, but his brain tell him not to. For what reason, he doesn't know. Maybe he's just afraid that he'll be dragged into this case. Or maybe, this is the adventure that he has been waiting for?

Grimmjow takes care of the kid. He brings him foods and drinks, tends his wounds, all without loosens his rope. The next day, after that boy seems to be able to respond well enough, Grimmjow made him promised to behave and then he opens the rope and gives him some of his shirts and Bermuda shorts. They're too big for his small and slender body, but better than nothing. Grimmjow finds that the boy's mental condition is fine despite his screaming at sleep, but what can you hope from someone that seems to just have experienced a horrible things.

"What's your name?" asked Grimmjow three days later after he's sure that the boy is strong enough to have a conversation.

"Ulquiorra… Ulquiorra Schiffer." The boy answers in a low tone.

"I'm Grimmjow Jaguerjacques. And mind to tell me why you were inside the box on my yard?"Grimmjow put one of his buttocks on the high stool beside his pantry.

Ulquiorra just stays silent. Grimmjow sighs.

"Where's your home?"

Again, Grimmjow doesn't get an answer. He growls in anger, losing patience already.

"Hey kid! I can't help you if you only give me your name!"

Ulquiorra checks his battered arm. "How did you find me?"

"What? Hey, I'm the one who should ask you that! How in the world you land on my yard?"

Ulquiorra shakes his head, giving Grimmjow a sharp look. "You're not one of them? It's your trick to get to my father, right?"

"What are you talking about? Who's this 'them' anyway?" Grimmjow shouts angrily. "Look, I had a nice vacation for three days, and when I got home, I found a damn package on my side yard. Know what's in it? You! Are you a special package from hell for someone?"

Ulquiorra gives him a suspicious look.

Grimmjow reaches a paper from the countertop beside him, "Listen, I think you're supposed to be delivered to this man……Kaname Tousen. I found this inside your weird uniform's pocket. I think that the deliverer is so stupid that he couldn't read numbers. Kaname Tousen is in number 39, and my house is number 34. I've checked this Tousen man, he's not around. Empty house." He grabs another paper. "And a letter from Mr. Sousuke Aizen, he ordered this Tousen to take care of you for a while until he finished in handling some wild rats. Geh, what is he, a potato farmer?"

Grimmjow throws the papers to the younger boy. Ulquiorra grabs those papers and reads them carefully. He closes his eyes tightly and whispers frantically, "No! We have to move, we must leave this place! Quick!"

"W…what? Are you…"

"Don't you know the meaning? When they realize that they've sent me to the wrong place, they'll definitely track their last trace and find this house!"

"Hey, but I have no business with all these bullshit!"

"Don't be stupid! Even though it's their mistake, if they find you, they'll kill you!"

"Oh, shit!"

to be continued

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So, what da ya think?


	2. Chapter 2

Haa…second chapter. Well, it seemed that everyone wanted to have Ulquiorra in the box… Yes, me too…. But can you imagine what he would say to me? Maybe he will say: "Hey you, stupid human, kill yourself because you're useless! If I blow you with my cero, you'll only contaminate the air that I breathe!"

And thanks to all of the reviewers, I love you all…!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach! Hey, do I have to write this every time I post a new chapter or story?

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**Chapter 2**

Grimmjow and his mysterious guess named Ulquiorra Schiffer moves to a new apartment belong to a family of the friend of the friend of him who still in vacation abroad. Grimmjow used to borrow the place whenever he wanted to work in peace and avoided his manager, so he has the spare key. They did that secretly and separately. First, Grimmjow move at day time, bringing some of his clothes. But he has to loiter around at town for a while and does anything he needs, as what Ulquiorra have told him, to erase his trace. And then Ulquiorra leaves the home at night, through his back door, and slips between the neighbor's fences. They'll meet in front of the apartment.

That was all Ulquiorra's plan. No matter how much he disliked the complication, at some point Grimmjow also agreed with the younger lad, safety first! The apartment is on the third floor, they take the stairs instead of lift and Grimmjow is now in rage.

"This is the last time I wish for some challenging adventure. My legs feel like shit!" Grimmjow throws his bag to the floor and slumps on the nearest chair. "And that's the most ridiculous idea to get out from a mall through a small window. Like hell I want to do that again. You really are my nightmare!"

"I'm so sorry…" Ulquiorra sits on the couch carefully. "But that's necessary."

Suddenly, Grimmjow feels like a crybaby. Between them, Ulquiorra is the one in the worse condition. It's still difficult for him to walk, but he insisted on moving immediately. Now the boy is panting heavily, pain is clear on his pale white face, his shaking hands grips the edge of the sofa tightly.

"Oi, that's not what I mean. It's quite fun, actually. Maybe I can put it in my next novel, a silly investigation of a romantic murder." Grimmjow hoists himself out of his chair and walks to the kitchen, checking the food supply. "Good, we have a lot of craps here! Just apples and some instant noodles! Guess I'll be the one to do the shopping tomorrow."

Grimmjow returns to the living room, a glass of water in his hand. He scowls to find the other is buried himself under the pile of newspapers.

"What are you doing?" Grimmjow put the glass on the table in front of the boy.

"Just checking the news."

Grimmjow takes a quick look. "News from three weeks ago? How long have you been out from your world, eh?"

Getting used to the lack of respond from the stoic boy, Grimmjow sniff impatiently. "We got only one bedroom here. You sleep in the room, I'll take the couch. Now, off you go!" Grimmjow snaps the newspaper from Ulquiorra's hand. "I'll sleep here and you have to rest, too. I have enough of baby-sit a sick person. Go, now!"

Ulquiorra shoots him a deadly glare, but Grimmjow ignores him. He arranges some pillow on the couch, an effective way to expel the thin boy. Ulquiorra doesn't have other option but move to the pointed room. But he brings some of the newspaper along with him.

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Living with Ulquiorra is not as hard as Grimmjow has thought. But it's not that easy either. He will eat and drink anything Grimmjow put in front of him, stay silent all the day and never bother him on anything. Most of his time is spent in front of TV watching all the news, does that 'the thinker' pose in front of the window or sleeps. But, for more than a week stayed with that boy, Grimmjow only managed to knew a little about him. His name is Ulquiorra Schiffer, age 16, a sophomore high school student. OK, that's all. The young boy will not answer the question about his home, his parents, school, friends, or how he ended to be put in the box like a shipping object. Every time Grimmjow started to bring that topic onto the surface, Ulquiorra would refrain him by saying that he couldn't do that for Grimmjow's own good; that he would explain it after Grimmjow is safe; bla…bla…bla… That just put more fuel to Grimmjow's fire of curiosity.

Even though Ulquiorra is still so young, a teenage to be precise, but Grimmjow never met or knew anyone the same age who behave just like him. There's a mysterious aura emitted from that boy. His eyes are so cold and his expression always shows no emotions. But it's clearly that he has a special dignity behind that haughty manner. Ulquiorra always treats Grimmjow like he's the stupidest and scurviest soul in this planet, something that make Grimmjow's blood boiled.

But Grimmjow can't get angry to the boy. He can't imagine what that boy had been going through to have those wounds all over his body. Almost everyday at night, Grimmjow would come to his room and looked after him; because whenever he slept, Ulquiorra would wail, thrashing violently as if someone was torturing him. Grimmjow could do nothing but hushing the boy; hug that slim body, carefully avoid reopening the wound, whispers that everything alright, assuring him that he safe. After the boy is calmed down, he leaves him and allows himself to sleep.

They're living soundlessly for a few more days, and Grimmjow feels enough already. He puts the pot full with miso soup on the table, almost throwing it down. He starts to feel like a lonely house wife. It's not that Ulquiorra doesn't help him; in fact it's the boy who does almost all the work like cleaning and laundering. But the way that boy refuses to talk is like they've been forced into an unwanted married. Hell, Grimmjow finds himself thinking a lot of weird things lately. Blame that fucking Ulquiorra!

Ulquiorra is standing beside the window, he observes the road silently. That's all the boy does if he's not watching the news on TV or doing his works. Even though the cuts on Ulquiorra's back, chest and arms are quite scary, but every time Grimmjow helps him to put the bandage, he can see that the boy has a beautiful slender body. His skin must be once was flawlessly white and smooth like a first class porcelain. He doesn't have those overworked muscles, but his body is finely toned, indicating that he's good at sport or martial arts. He looks so frail with those slim arms and long legs, but he's cute. Very cute that has made Grimmjow wanted to kiss those thin lips. Well, he still wants to kiss them now. The silky black hair that framed his face and neck in a messy way just emphasizes his cuteness. And those big emerald eyes, even though they're always giving him a cold indifferent look, but Grimmjow thinks that they're beautiful.

Grimmjow slaps his own face. '_No, no…no! I can't let myself thinking about him like that! Why am I thinking about those weird things? He's just a little kid!_' But Grimmjow still let himself staring at the boy, almost drooling. He's imagining to feel that boy beneath him, moving and moaning passionately, working his body and sending him to the peak of pleasure…

_Plak!_ A napkin is thrown at his face. Grimmjow squeals at the sudden attack.

"Stop staring at me like that. And wipe that disgusting look off from your face!" Ulquiorra walks pass him to the kitchen to wash his hands.

Grimmjow glares at the boy. _How dare he!_ Grimmjow sniffs angrily. "Then stop doing that! Standing in front of the window like a sick exhibitionist, I'm wondering when you will start stripping your shorts!"

Ulquiorra ignores him, chewing his rice silently. All the clothes that Grimmjow brought is too big for him, luckily they found that the apartment owner's shirts are quite small. So he borrowed them. But because whenever he moved carelessly and some of his wounds would reopen beneath the bandage, the blood would tainted the shirt; so he didn't wear them anymore. That's why he's wearing just the Bermuda shorts which Grimmjow gave him. Grimmjow was calling him fucking act noble, but Ulquiorra only doesn't feel appropriate to assault a borrowing object.

Grimmjow eats slowly, grimacing. It's too salt for his taste, but hey, he's the one who cooked them. But the kid eats them without any complaint. Yes, Grimmjow has to give him a point for that.

"I think it's impossible to get you out of this trouble." Ulquiorra speaks softly, surprising the older man. His eyes stare at the wall in front of him. "I've thought of it, and I couldn't find any perfect scenario. I think you don't have any other choice but to be dragged. I'm so sorry, really-really sorry. I never want to involve anybody else into this, but they've accidentally made you anyway. Don't worry, I'll ensure your safety, so please bear with this for a while. I'll find a way."

There he goes again. If Grimmjow closes his eyes, he will think that he's talking to an adult. "I don't know what're you talking about, and you never telling me anything. I don't know with whom I deal this fucking shit with."

"Can't you do something to your hair? With that color, even someone from Mars could spot you easily."

This boy, this boy, this boy! Grimmjow holds himself from bursting like a ten years old girl. "No! You don't tell me shit, I won't do you shit!"

Ulquiorra sighs, his consideration, it seems, has gone vapor. "We have to do anything to live in discreet. I don't know whether you've realized this or not, but your life is in danger. These people are able to do anything to eradicate you from this world, easily. Like cutting butter."

Grimmjow stabs a piece of meat using his fork, smirking. "Like what I've said, you don't tell me shit, I won't do you shit."

Ulquiorra stares at him, his expression reveals nothing. He nods composedly, as if he had decided something. Grimmjow feels uncomfortable; he's waiting for Ulquiorra to argue, compelling him to do what he has said. Instead, Ulquiorra rises from his seat and walked slowly to wash his plate, leaving the uncertain Grimmjow whom now thinking that maybe he really has to change his hair color from blue to…yellow maybe?

The next day, Grimmjow wake up late as usual. He yawns as he walks to the bathroom, to drain his stomach. He eyed the dining table, a plate full with fried rice. Just one plate? Great, so now he has to make his own breakfast? That grumpy old Ulquiorra!

Grimmjow stretches his muscles after he leave the bathroom in relieve. What breakfast he wants to eat? Bread or rice? He walks to the kitchen, and sees the fried rice is still on the table. It's strange, he touches it. It's already cold. Ah, thinking about strange, he doesn't see that boy watching news on TV like usual. He checks the clock, it's already ten. Curious, he walks to the bedroom, but finds no Ulquiorra in there. He checks the living room, balcony, even inside the cupboard. He can't find the boy. Panic is rising to the surface, where the hell is that kid? Did they, whoever this 'they' Ulquiorra always mentioned, have captured him? But hell, why didn't they do anything to him?

Grimmjow walks around the room, doesn't know what to do. Maybe Ulquiorra decided that he, Grimmjow, is useless and then leaving him? But he could do that long time ago, why waiting till now? Grimmjow is so deep in his own thought when he heard the front door opened. He lurches to the living room, finding the boy who is looking at him indifferently.

"Where are you coming from?" asks Grimmjow angrily.

"Somewhere…" Ulquiorra takes his sandals off, ignoring Grimmjow completely before walks to the window, observing the road.

"Hey, talk to me!" Grimmjow grabs Ulquiorra's forearm, demanding an answer. "I'm worry like shit here!"

Grimmjow quickly lets his arm go after the boy winces.

"Since it seemed that you didn't want to cooperate, so I have to find another way. I just went somewhere to leave a message to someone I believe." Ulquiorra takes the hat off and throws it to the couch. "Now leave me alone. I need to make sure that no one follows me."

Grimmjow frowns, but he can't argue back. Beads of sweat cover Ulquiorra's forehead, his breath is heavy; seems like he has run a few blocks.

"You've eaten?" asks Grimmjow.

Ulquiorra nods. Grimmjow wrinkles an eyebrow, so that rice is for him. He walks back to the dining room, eating the fried rice silently. He won't blame himself; Ulquiorra is leaving him in the dark pit, so there's no way he would know who their enemy is. Ulquiorra just said that they're very dangerous, but he will never take someone's word so easily. It's not that he doesn't want to help Ulquiorra but if that boy refuses to even trust him just a little, well…what can he do?

Ulquiorra never leaves his place beside the window, even to eat. His expression is so tense. The aura is contagious, because now Grimmjow feels nervous. He makes himself busy by making lunch, and does the cleaning.

Later that afternoon, the bell is ringing. Both the male in the room jump to the air, surprised. Ulquiorra makes a gesture with his hand, orders Grimmjow to stay silent before tiptoes to the door. He peeks through the hole and furrows his brows. Grimmjow waves his own hand, asking what's going own.

Ulquiorra opens the door and pulls someone inside. "Inoue, why are you here?"

To be continued

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Ah, I guess the whole story will be revealed in the next chapter about who and what happened.

So, just tell me what you think… Thanks so much…


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